


maybe one day

by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren)



Series: FullmoonFiclet Entries [68]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College Student Stiles, Future Fic, Guitars, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9840881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/triggeringthehealing
Summary: No one asks about the guitar in the corner when they visit, and Stiles lets them assume that it’s his roommate’s -- though how Scott doesn’t pick up on Stiles’ scent all over the strings, Stiles doesn’t know.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Full Moon Ficlet](http://fullmoon-ficlet.livejournal.com/467283.html) challenge on Livejournal - prompt #211: serenade
> 
> Heavily inspired by Passengers' _Let Her Go_.

In the past, Stiles was always too uncoordinated for any kind of musical instrument. Now, his ability to focus on several things at once is helpful with playing the guitar that he bought on a whim one week when he couldn’t fly home and his Dad couldn’t come to DC either. There are tons of people in the dorms who play and he easily finds someone willing to teach him the basics. After that, he dives into his usual research spiral and he learns a few songs in the following months. 

The guitar stays in his dorm room when he goes home and when he goes to visit Lydia at MIT.  _ It’s too unwieldy to carry _ , he reasons with himself. It’s also something he doesn’t feel like sharing with the pack, something just for himself. Instead, he strums it when he has free time, and sometimes even when he’s studying. Having something to do with his hands helps him focus on the words on the page, and after the first exam round, he picks it up more frequently when he’s revising or doing his readings for class. 

No one asks about the guitar in the corner when they visit, and Stiles lets them assume that it’s his roommate’s -- though how Scott doesn’t pick up on Stiles’ scent all over the strings, Stiles doesn’t know. 

It’s only when Derek visits for the first time after they get in touch again that his little secret gets revealed.

“I didn’t know you played,” Derek asks almost right after he walks into the room. 

“What?” Stiles asks, deciding to pretend he doesn’t understand, slightly surprised because no one asked about the guitar at all before. 

“The guitar,” Derek tilts his head towards the guitar. “You didn’t play back in high school, did you?”

“No,” Stiles shakes his head, the answer out of his mouth before he can think about it. “No, I picked it up here. Still learning though.”

Derek just nods and lets it go, and they fall into easy conversation right after, talking about Stiles’ classes and other more mundane things. It’s surprising to Stiles how easily they can talk now, with no reason to besides that they both enjoy the conversation. 

Weeks and months pass and they grow closer, close enough that Stiles starts wondering if their dinners and meetings in coffee shops are actually dates. 

“They could be, if you wanted,” Derek says when Stiles brings it up. 

“Yeah,” Stiles breathes out. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.” 

No one seems surprised when they tell the pack about it, at least not about the dating itself. Stiles’ Dad mentions something about being surprised that it took them so long, which makes both of them blush and be flustered for a while. 

When Stiles gets a single room, Derek stays over occasionally, when the drive back to New York is too much, or when he’s around late enough that Stiles declares it a better idea if he stayed. 

The guitar has a permanent place in the corner, but Derek never asks about it again. At least not until one night, when Stiles is up studying for a quiz, and he picks it up out of habit to strum while he’s reading. He’s not playing a song, just a random melody that -- he’d notice if he focused on it -- is a mix of several different songs he knows well. 

“You’re pretty good,” Derek says quietly from the bed where he’s stretched out with a book of his own -- fiction, unlike Stiles’ textbooks. 

“What?” Stiles asks, spinning around in surprise. “Oh, right, this,” he looks down, only properly realising he has the guitar in his hands. “Yeah, I don’t know, it’s good for letting me think. Distraction for my hands.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Derek says. “I just wanted to say… I like it.” 

“I can…” Stiles starts, but he hesitates, and thinks how this is something that’s truly only  _ his _ , something he hasn’t shared with anyone all that much. “I can play something,” he says quietly. 

“You don’t have to,” Derek tells him. “If you don’t want to.”

And that’s it, those are the words that hit the switch in Stiles’ mind. Because with Derek, he doesn’t feel the need or the desire to keep things to himself. He doesn’t want to hide any part of him, knows that he doesn’t need to. That Derek accepts him as he is, no exceptions. 

“I want to,” Stiles says, and without waiting for a reaction, he starts plucking on the strings. 

First he just plays tones that are disjointed. But soon they merge into a melody, a song that was one of the ones he’s learned in full early on. He hums along with it at first, looking down on his fingers against the strings. When he reaches the chorus the second time, he finally lifts his head to look at Derek. To his surprise -- and it’s almost a miracle that it doesn’t make him mess up -- he sees that Derek is mouthing the lyrics, so Stiles goes for broke.

“ _ Only know you’re high when you’re feeling low _ ,” he sings quietly, eyes on Derek’s face and his surprised but also fond expression. “ _ Only hate the road when you’re missing home. Only know you love him when you let him go… and you let him go _ .”

Derek joins him for the rest of the song, their voices harmonising perfectly. When Stiles finished the chorus for the final time, he puts the guitar down and walks to Derek, who’s now sitting up on the bed. He lets himself be pulled down onto it too, and their fingers link when Derek speaks up. 

“I used to play this, you know,” Derek says. “It made me think of you.” 

“That’s why I learned it,” Stiles admits. “It made me think of  _ you _ .”

“No more letting go,” Derek whispers as he leans closer. 

Stiles’ answer is muffled by the kiss that still somehow manages to take him by surprise.

**Author's Note:**

>   
> [my tumblr](http://froggydarren.tumblr.com/) || [my sterek fic tumblr](http://triggeringthehealing.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
